Rebuild From Zero
by WillowBlueJay17
Summary: One after another, over and over. Dimitri can't stay strong, can't be the prince Faerghus needs, with his friends dying like this. What is he supposed to do? AU inspired by the E3 2019 trailer. In which the Blue Lions fall apart, and Dimitri soon follows. Pre-Release. COMPLETED!


For the record, while I deeply adore all the characters I am firmly Team Blue Lions and the E3 trailer murdered me in cold blood. That being said, I will fight for the happiness of every one of my students regardless of house, Intsys! The game isn't even released yet but here I am making a fic, that's definitely a first! Anyways, hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over the Fire Emblem series or its characters.

* * *

Ingrid, soft-spoken and unwavering, was the first of them to fall.

Dimitri knew he should've never sent her on a mission so far away, practically skirting the volatile border between Faerghus and Adrestia. It didn't matter that it was a simple escort assignment, that Ingrid had been on more than handful of them before, that she'd travelled even farther than that for some missions. At the very least, he shouldn't have sent her alone.

"_Milord, you can't spare any of the others with how tense things are right now. I'm capable."_

"_Can't you wait for another mission? I've been receiving troubling reports about the border."_

"_My family doesn't have the luxury of waiting anymore, milord. I…We need the money."_

The money. A noble house near ruin, desperately in need of money to the point that Ingrid would repeatedly throw herself into dangerous situations. He understood why she was so desperate, having heard the rumors of an earlier incident with the Black Eagles' Dorothea Arnault.

But he should have refused. Then he wouldn't have to be in his room, dawn quickly approaching, with the letter he needs to send to Ingrid's family to inform them of their daughter's death not even started.

A powerful Bolganone spell, burning her Pegasus to nothing and leaving barely anything of Ingrid to find. Adrestia's known for their mages the messenger who delivered the news stated, not even bothering to wait for Dimitri to stop shaking, to overpower the need to throw up, to make his comment.

He snapped at the man, sending him off with an uncharacteristic glare. He had informed the Empire well in advance that Ingrid would be in the area. Edelgard had responded promptly. Adrestia wouldn't threaten to break years of peace, uneasy as it may be at times. No, they wouldn't. _She_ wouldn't.

But Ingrid was still dead, her body laying in the morgue, waiting to go home. She would've been devastated to hear of the fate of her dear Pegasus. Devastated to know there was no body to bury with her, as she had once mentioned offhandedly back in their school days.

The letter still wasn't started when a maid came to inform him that breakfast was ready.

* * *

Ashe, eager to please and wearing his heart on his sleeve, never truly recovered from his adoptive father's death.

Dimitri was an idiot to ever think otherwise, to not pay closer attention. After all, Ashe was a master of hiding his grief and frustration, a trick of the trade from a childhood spent in the slums. But Ashe had become more open after Sir Lonato took him in, gave him a home, an education, a family. The old lord had become everything to Ashe, his world. His idolization of the man was no secret to anyone.

Of course, it would stand to reason that Sir Lonato's death would cause the young boy to lapse into old habits. But Dimitri didn't see it, didn't search for it. But he was worried, particularly due to reports of more hostile remnants of Sir Lonato's rebellion feeling furious at Ashe for "betraying" Sir Lonato, for biting the hand that fed him. This is what happens when you show pity for street rats, they said. It was a dangerous situation. And so, after graduation, he invited Ashe to spend some time at the castle, under the guise of training with the famous knights of Faerghus.

"_Heh, you're such a worrywart, Your Highness. I'm alright on my own! Besides I've got…Gaspard Castle to look after now."_

"_Are you truly fine, Ashe?"_

"…_Yes, I am…But fine, if it'll ease your mind, I'll stay at the castle for a little while."_

A week later, Dimitri messed up. He let Ashe stay in the room when updated reports of the remaining members of Sir Lonato's rebellion came in, about how they seemed to be lingering around Gaspard Castle. He underestimated Ashe's abilities to sneak out of the castle, despite the number of guards stationed all over, despite the extra guards he assigned outside Ashe's room on the off chance something like this would happen.

Gaspard Castle was eerily quiet once he and Dedue reached it, the pair having raced ahead of the rest of the soldiers. Yet there were telltale signs of fighting all over. Cracked windows, dislodged stones, cuts deep in the door…blood…so much blood…

Dedue was the one to speak to the remaining soldiers once they caught up. Leaving Dimitri in the room that could belong to none but Ashe. Staring at the still, bruised, and bloody figure of the young boy curled up in bed, looking for all the world asleep.

They never find enough evidence to charge anyone, no matter how much Dimitri searches.

* * *

Sylvain, friendly and passionate, disappears without a trace.

It's terrifying how similar it is to a case from their days in the academy, which also happened to involve a member of the Gautier family, Sylvain's disinherited older brother if he remembered correctly. Despite it occurring within Faerghus, the Church dispatched the Black Eagles to take care of the matter. Without giving him much information, even though it's _his_ homeland they're in, Church orders or not. Not even Sylvain received the full story. All they were told was that a mysterious beast appeared and that the Adrestian students had taken care of it. Not even a day later, Sylvain received word his brother had vanished, although he should have been at the castle where the beast was, the castle being all his brother had left to his name after being born without a crest.

Dimitri tried to speak with Edelgard, or even Professor Byleth who oversaw the Black Eagles, but he never got more information. Not even his attempts to get an audience with Lady Rhea made any progress…It was suspicious…

But he trusted Edelgard, truly he did. They may have different ideals in many categories, but Edelgard wouldn't…_couldn't_…

Without any more information, nothing could be done. As far as the records knew, Sylvain's brother went missing and was presumed killed during the beast's attack. Sylvain was frustrated but begrudgingly accepted the flimsy story…And then, just a few weeks earlier, Sylvain had said something strange.

"_Milord, do you believe in the crests? That they're a treasure and something we should hold with pride?"_

"_Sylvain? Where is this coming from? …Are you feeling alright? You've been looking sickly for a while now."_

"…_I didn't run off…No matter what anyone says, I didn't run…And neither did my brother…"_

Sylvain left soon after that, practically in a trance, never giving Dimitri a chance to ask him to explain. But the pieces started to fall into place once he received the news of another mysterious beast attacking indiscriminately near the Gautier territory. Which was once again dealt with by the Adrestians, on the Church's orders, without so much as informing Dimitri of the situation until it was already "taken care of". And a few days later came the news that Sylvain Jose Gautier was missing…Dimitri had always known that no matter how high one was ranked, all across Fodlan followed the Church…And yet…And yet…_Sylvain_…

Dimitri didn't sleep that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. If Dedue noticed how dark the bags under his eyes were getting, he never said so aloud. Dedue just left various types of tea and herbal remedies by his table each night. Felix wasn't nearly as considerate, telling him constantly to his face that he "looked like shit". But his grip was unusually gentle when he grabbed Dimitri's arm and dragged him to his room after Dimitri nearly collapsed during a light sparring session.

He stopped responding to Edelgard's letters.

* * *

Annette, clumsy but the hardest worker you could meet, died a month later, and Dimitri had no one to blame but himself.

Medicinal teas didn't work. No known potions worked. Spells were 50/50, but overusing magic like that could have adverse effects on his body in the long run. But sleep was elusive. Once in a while it'd come, and he would get four, five, even six hours of much needed rest. But then the cycle would start again. One day, two days, three days, four…If this kept up, he wouldn't be able to finish his work…

He had been having tea with Annette, listening to the young girl's words about her latest studies in magic, about how she'd been trying her hand at making potions, but the results constantly blew up in her face, sometimes to somewhat dangerous extents. Potion making was a very tricky art, she had said, explaining that the most careful person and the clumsiest still run the same risks. Suddenly, his vision went black. What seemed like mere seconds later, he opened his eyes, noticing that he was slumped over the small table, the teapot and cups shattered on the ground, and Annette hovering over him, teary eyed and looking ready to bolt for help. Dimitri quickly, but unsteadily, set himself to rights, trying to calm Annette's concerns, assure her that he just hadn't been able to sleep properly last night.

Annette didn't believe his claims that a sudden blackout could occur after missing one night of sleep. She puffed out her cheeks and constantly darted in front of him whenever he tried to escape the room. Eventually, he gave up and told her the whole story, of his terrible insomnia that had started with Sylvain and refused to bow to any treatment.

"_So, nothing has been working, huh Prince Dimitri? Well, maybe no one's made the right potion for you yet!"_

"_Right potion…Right…The right potion…Forgive me, Annette, I swear I'm not normally like this- "_

"_No, no, say no more! Please hang in there a little longer! I'll double my efforts, just for you! Oh, but I better be quick about it, you really don't look good at all…"_

He should've understood her words. If it had been before, before things started going to hell, before his friends started dropping one after the other, he would've noticed, he's sure of it. But the tea with Annette came after five nights without sleep. It was nothing short of a miracle that he had been able to make passable conversation with the young girl until he passed out. And so, he sent her off without a word, without remembering the stories she had been telling him just minutes earlier.

Damn him. Damn him for actually being shocked when he got the noticeably tear stained letter from Mercedes a week later, telling her that Annette had been mortally wounded during an accident while making potions. Damn him for having the gall to go to Annette, dear little Annette, to say his goodbyes because nothing could be done, as if he had any right. Damn him for running like a coward when Annette spoke her last words, apologizing for not getting the potion right.

Damn him, damn him, _damn him_…

That night, when Dedue came to Dimitri's room with a new blend of tea that would hopefully bring the prince some rest, a desperately made concoction of every plant in his garden that produces drowsiness, he opened the door to find the young prince of Faerghus crumpled in his bed, muffling sobs into his arms. Dimitri met Dedue's shocked gaze with tear filled eyes, and yet he couldn't compose himself.

He couldn't…How could he take this anymore? Ingrid…Ashe…Sylvain…Annette…

Dedue sat beside Dimitri for the rest of the night, forgoing all propriety for the sake of gently running his fingers through Dimitri's hair, trying to bring some peace.

* * *

Mercedes, the sweetest girl and finest surrogate sister anyone could find, fell in battle and Dimitri, worthless prince he is, wasn't aware of any of it.

Brigands…? Enemy soldiers…? Ah, no, that's right, it was another group of rebels this time around. Dimitri shouldn't have been on the battlefield. He hadn't slept in three days. He couldn't eat anything the previous night, or that morning either. His advisors had pleaded with him. Dedue had bowed on his hands and knees, begging over and over for him to rest. Felix had tried locking him in his room, only to be thwarted when Dimitri threatened and then actually attempted to escape through the window, despite the death-defying fall awaiting him should he slip. But no, stupid, stupid, _stupid_. He had to come. On his honor as Faerghus' prince, as the one his people counted on to protect them. The one who had to protect others…Even if he's nothing but a failure…

Mercedes hadn't said anything to him, even though they were to set out to the battle soon. He couldn't blame her. She knew why Annette died, he told her as much after the funeral. She despised him, a weak-willed coward who claimed to be a reliable leader. Leader of what though? Dedue, Felix, and Mercedes were all that was left. But he was still the prince, he had to lead the soldiers, lead his kingdom. But…

Mercedes had turned to him at that moment. Dimitri could only watch dumbly as she gently cupped his face in her warm hands, a soft, broken smile on her face.

"_Will you push yourself forever, Prince Dimitri? Will you work and fight until you break? Is this truly what you should be doing?"_

"_They need me…You all need me…I won't…can't…I need this, Mercedes. If I lose this too, then…"_

"_No, you don't need this. But you won't listen anymore…Very well, rely on us. Rely on me. You will return home alive, my prince."_

He wouldn't listen anymore. Yes, that was true. If he had listened for once, if he had thought things through…The battle was fierce. And he hadn't realized how much he relied on Ingrid's distractions, Ashe's sharp eye, Annette's magical prowess, and Sylvain's tenacity…or how lacking their team was without them. Maybe that was why that arrow flew true, jamming right into his eye without any warning.

As he fell to the ground, screaming as he covered his face, blood seeping through his fingers, exhaustion seemingly intensifying everything to unbearable levels, part of him couldn't help but think about the archer who got him. What skilled archery, what incredible aim. So much like Claude…_Too_ much like-

No, no, no, no, _no_…They weren't anywhere near Leicester. Claude wasn't in Faerghus, he'd know. He wouldn't risk war, he was too clever for that, Dimitri knew that! Just like he knew with Adrestia, like with Edelgard. He'd know, he'd know…He'd know! _He would_! They wouldn't…They…wouldn't…?

Selfish fool he is, too lost in himself, he never realized there was a woman ferociously protecting him from incoming soldiers until backup could reach them. He didn't notice when she fell, one arrow too many, one sword too many…He wakes up a day later in the medical wing. He can't see out of one of his eyes. Even in his dazed state, he knows it's gone…He should be angrier about that, shouldn't he…?

Felix, despite Dedue warning him against it from the bed he is confined to, tells him Mercedes is dead. He never was the type to mince words, huh?

Dimitri doesn't know what the others see in that moment. All he knows is that Felix lunges at him, Dedue trying to scramble from his bed, several healers rushing towards him, staffs raised.

He doesn't wake up again until two weeks have passed.

* * *

Dedue. Ever gentle and ever loyal. They were…supposed to visit Duscur together…

Dimitri hadn't adjusted to his new eyepatch yet. As he had suspected, the eye couldn't be saved. He would have to learn how to battle with one eye, relearn how to handle everything, relearn how to judge distances, both in battle and in life. And yet he wasn't trying. There he was, lazily lying on his bed for the third week in a row. The healers had said that, other than the eye and severe exhaustion, he was alright. But he confined himself to his room since that stupid battle. Unopened letters from Claude were piling up on his table. He didn't answer anymore, but Claude was refusing to back down. At least Edelgard had stopped trying months ago. If either of them ever came to visit him personally…He truly hoped it wouldn't happen…

Dedue had tried to get him to eat more, but he only ate a few mouthfuls of most meals before the nausea overwhelmed him, making him push the plates away and crawl back under the covers of his bed. Dedue had tried to cut Dimitri's hair, noticing that it had been steadily growing over his weeks of confinement. But Dimitri had slapped the scissors out of Dedue's hands, so the matter was left alone for now. Instead Dedue increased his efforts to get food into Dimitri, to find ways to help him sleep, to take care of his eye so that the wound would heal properly, to make him wash himself because even that much had become exhausting to the prince. It was pathetic how Dimitri was forcing his dear friend and retainer to become his personal caretaker.

Felix, who had always been a constant visitor over the years, was now a daily presence at the castle. Surprisingly, he never tried to drag him down to the training grounds. Instead, he'd push him over and lay down next to him on the bed, not saying a thing no matter what Dimitri did. Not when Dimitri stubbornly ignored him, not when Dimitri growled at him to leave, not when he screamed so loudly and fiercely that the soldiers would run in with weapons drawn, not when he actually got into a fist fight with the other man…Not even when he was too tired to do anything but press his face against Felix's shoulder and cry…

The nobles of Faerghus were growing immensely dissatisfied with their weak-willed prince. Some of the more ambitious, and black hearted, had resorted to assassination attempts. Not that Dimitri was ever aware, too lost in himself and his own pity to pay attention. But Dedue…Always protective, always on guard…Always ready to give everything for Dimitri, even though he never deserved someone so incredible.

"_Your Highness, please stop saying those things about yourself. I follow you because I have the utmost faith in you. Nothing has changed that."_

"…_There's only three of us left, Dedue…Go home to Duscur…Please…Leave me."_

"_That is one order I can never follow, Your Highness."_

And yet he _did_ follow that order in the end. Dimitri's latest assassination attempt came in the form of a band of highly trained bandits, who snuck into the castle late at night, through one of the few blind spots the castle guard had. When Dimitri, sleepless as ever, spotted the group, he laid quiet and still. His peace would finally come to him…Finally…_Finally_…

But Dedue, ever vigilant, had figured it out. Had burst into the room and fought off every one of them, even as they all stabbed wildly. One of them got a lucky shot, a blade slicing at the right spot on his neck. Dedue collapsed gracelessly, motionless in seconds. The sole survivor of the assassin group had turned to Dimitri to quickly finish the job.

A minute later, guards alerted to the sound of chaos entered Dimitri's room to a grisly sight. Dedue, the prince's retainer, lying in a pool of blood. Bodies of assassins scattered around the room among broken furniture. And Dimitri himself, screaming wildly, stabbing the broken leg of a table into the unmoving body of a man who lay beneath him over and over and over…

It was only Felix's diligence that kept Dimitri from following Dedue to the grave in the weeks to follow.

* * *

Felix…Combative and rude…Always ready to challenge him, to yell at him…Always by his side, for years and years…His most cherished childhood friend…

The bastard _deserved_ it.

Felix effectively moved into the castle following Dedue's death. Which suited Dimitri just fine. The prince started training again and he could use a skilled sparring partner like Felix. He would never be caught off guard again. He wouldn't let another be forced to make up for his uselessness again. He. Would. Protect. Others.

But no, Felix suddenly decided that sparring was too good for him. As if their challenges didn't make up so much of their friendship. From the time they were young, pretending sticks were swords and boulders were fortresses. Felix now decided that talking was all he wanted. Talking about the others, about Dimitri, about the unrest among the Faerghus nobility, about the unanswered messages from Edelgard, Claude, and even Professor Byleth.

He didn't want to talk. He needed to train! He had become used to the eyepatch at long last.

He needed to sleep, to eat, Felix would respond. To cut that mop of hair of his.

That would come later. He needed to become stronger.

Physically, he was plenty strong, Felix said. Mentally though…Emotionally…

Since when did that matter though? It's strength on the battlefield that brings in results in the end. Shouldn't Felix understand that? Dimitri thought they were supposed to be best friends.

But Felix said they _were_ best friends, and that's precisely why he was tired of Dimitri's crap. The Dimitri of now, Felix said, was on the verge of shattering, of breaking beyond repair. Felix wanted to do all he could to stop that. Sparring, as much as he loved it, wouldn't do anything for Dimitri. Not if his heart and mind weren't there.

Dimitri scoffed and left him at that moment. How dare that asshole…Since when was Felix so sentimental? Did he think he was better than Dimitri? Is that why he was trying to act all mature now? Why doesn't he leave that kind of garbage to someone like Dedue-?

…He wondered how much longer things would last…

A week later, he learned of a nasty skirmish between the kingdom's soldiers and some mages. Adrestian mages…? And there were some skilled archers there too. From…Leicester…perhaps…? Whatever, they were there, and his soldiers needed help. But Dimitri was running on nothing. On two hours of sleep in a week and five meals in just as much time. And after…_that battle_…he wouldn't, _couldn't_ go to battle like he is again. But they needed support, so he ordered more soldiers on their way. But they could use more skilled help.

Felix said he'd go. Dimitri snapped.

"_They need help. They need leadership, and you're in no state to go there, so I'm the next best thing. It's an emergency, so quit your griping, you damn boar!"_

"_You could never lead to save your damn life! …Please, please, please…I'll talk, is that what you want? Whatever you want, whenever you want. I'll stop training, I'll talk, I'll eat, sleep, I'll…I swear, I'll-"_

"_Breathe, Dimitri…Okay, fine…Let's go to your room then…"_

Damn bastard…He always turned into a filthy liar whenever he was stubborn about something. The second they entered the room, a splitting pain hit the back of his head and he passed out. He woke hours later in the medical wing, the healers explaining he'd taken a blow to the head but that he'd recover just fine.

…Faerghus won the battle…He was taken to the field, which had been in chaos while he was out cold. Bodies of his land's soldiers and the enemy lay everywhere.

…Felix had been a demon on the battlefield. His skills were what saved the day, grateful soldier after grateful soldier told Dimitri. But that damn man…magic was always his weakness…Being grazed by a Thoron spell could paralyze most people…Being struck dead-on by one though…

The soldiers walked away as Dimitri stared at Felix's burned, still body…Surrounded by fallen soldiers, his prized sword broken in two beside him.

Nearby soldiers flinched and turned in shock when Dimitri let out a practically primal yell and threw himself at Felix's body, punching it over and over again. The men scrambled to him and grabbed the wild prince, tearing him away, struggling as the man desperately reached out at Felix, fingers clawing in the direction of the fallen man. They didn't understand…Wasn't Felix their prince's childhood friend? He was a savior. How could the prince treat a fallen friend's body like this?

But Dimitri no longer cared. Animalistic screams tore out of his throat, tears cascaded down his face. Damn Felix! Damn that lying ass! Damn him, damn him, _damn him_!

He would _never_ forgive him.

* * *

"_We are the future of Faerghus, the knights who will lead the kingdom."_

No one left…No one but him…Worthless, useless him…

"_I…I may be your prince, but please remember I'm also your friend. You can speak to me about whatever you wish!"_

He should've taken a page from Edelgard's book, remained aloof and aware. Or perhaps be more like Claude, always on guard, hiding behind a pleasant smile. He wouldn't be suffering like this then…

"_Remember to get along with the students from Adrestia and Leicester. It's important that we maintain strong bonds between our lands, so war will never curse us again."_

The reports were coming in. The Adrestian Empire…The Leicester Alliance…There was something brewing under the surface…And the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus itself…The nobility was furious, the commoners uneasy…Fragile peace would shatter soon. Fodlan was going to die.

"_I swear I will do my utmost to lead Faerghus. And I will be relying on you all as well. We are a team; it is our honor to work together for the sake of those who needs us!"_

Who was left for him to lead…? Who still needed him now…?

"_It is the duty of those in power to protect the weak, the ones who don't have the strength to fight for themselves!"_

To protect…the weak…Yes, the weak. The weak who were constantly being abused by the strong. By Adrestia's military might…By Leicester's unparalleled spy network…By Faerghus' selfish nobles, who would throw the innocent to the wolves for their own needs…

"_The Blue Lions are honor bound to defend the innocent, for Fodlan's future."_

For…the ones who can't fight back…Who can no longer fight back, no matter how much he dreams of it. No matter how often the wonderful, painful memories plague his mind.

"_We must do whatever we can! But remember, we are knights. We won't shame our homeland by acting without reason, without chivalry."_

Even if he had to raze Adrestia and Leicester to the ground…Even if he had to bring ruin to Faerghus itself…

"_We can help Fodlan grow stronger and more united."_

Fodlan could rebuild…They _must_ start again, from zero.

"_I'm depending on you all. The eight of us are strong together. There's nothing we can't accomplish."_

…Felix, Dedue, Ingrid, Mercedes, Ashe, Sylvain, Annette…

"_We're counting on you, Leader!"_

And he would never fail them again.

* * *

Hey...So, long time, no see, huh? So I kinda posted this as an anon on Tumblr. But then I was actually pretty proud of this so, I decided to post it here. Yeah, I know it's been forever since I made a fic, forever since I updated existing fics, and forever since I posted anything on my Tumblr. I can't explain myself properly. But maybe this will be the kick I need to get back in the spirit of things? I do plan on making a comeback to Tumblr soon enough, maybe by the time Three Houses is released? I may not have been posting but I have been there, liking posts and sometimes interacting offline. But with Three Houses hype and Pokemon Sword and Shield hype, I think I'll be returning sooner or later. At the very least, I will try my best! Thank you for being patient! And please read and review.


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